"Alright. Let's wait till everyone's in class then we sneak down to the kitchens because there are bound to be house elves down there. They can provide us with food, clothing and well, everything." Draco was moving his blond head as he spoke.
"I don't like it. We can't just nip down, grab whatever we can and leave. It's not right! It's not… it's not good manners." Hermione was chewing her lip nervously. Draco turned to glare at Hermione. She stared back in his eyes with an equal amount of annoyance, her pink and a little bit swollen lips quivering.
" Granger. Miss Granger. Hermy-own. Hermione. House elves like to be helpful. They love it. Imagine yourself with straight-As, as Head Girl AND the Merlin's Award for Gifted Students. Now imagine your grades taken away from you, reduced to nothing, and no award. THAT's how a house elf feels when you do your own dishes. Their sole pleasure in life is to bring happiness into the cold, dank, lonely lives of others. So, I advice you to leave the matter alone. They're happy, leave them be."
Hermione was stunned. She'd never heard Malfoy acknowledge her smarts or speak so passionately about any topic; not even Quidditch or shagging girls!
"Fine. But I have to be able to thank them profoundly before we leave."
"Whatever. Let's go. Now."
Draco Malfoy slowly inched the door open, showing a largely deserted corridor. The paintings and portraits had not yet covered every inch of the stone wall and lit torches lined the sides, giving the whole corridor an eerie, flickering glow. Hermione and Draco quickly snuck around the corner and continued on as strangers in the castle they once called home.
When venturing around the corner they came to a grand staircase and instantly recognised their bearings.
"We're near the Great Hall!" Hermione smiled, as she was pulled down to the ground.
"For God's sakes, woman! Could you be any louder! Or slower!" Malfoy hissed at her, his eyes darkening, "there was a prefect looking around and you didn't even notice. Geez!"
They continued down the stairs, keeping out of sight for a good fifteen minutes. As they passed through familiar corridors, they were surprised to see familiar faces looking at them from inside their portrait frames. To Draco's astonishment the people looked much younger and half their wrinkles were gone.
"Of course they're younger. Paintings age as well, you know. They just age at a slower pace than alive people. How could you not know that?! I thought your Manor was full of portraits…" Hermione said, with vain curiosity.
"Whatever… know-it-all Mudb- OWWW!" Draco cried as Hermione shoved him into the wall with as much force as she could muster.
"Doth watch where thou art heading, young master!" a portrait of an old man cried indignantly at him.
"Sorry sorry." Draco muttered while staring daggers into Hermione's back as she walked ahead.
When they reached the painting of the infamous fruit basket, Hermione reached up to tickle the pear. It squirmed under her fingers and a small 'click!' was heard as the painting swung open, very fast, as if its hinges were just oiled.
"Miss!"
"Master!"
"May Boomer be of service, Miss?"
"Complementary biscuits and warm milk served to the Miss from Limmy!"
"May Dinky take your coat, Master?"
Hermione and Draco stared as the house elves busied themselves around the kitchen bringing them the most delicious food they had ever seen in their lives. There was candied chestnuts, tarragon and rosemary quiches, warm steaming apple pie, blueberry and custard, bread with melted cheese and the most purple wine Draco had ever had the pleasure of viewing.
" All we need are the bare essentials…" Hermione squeaked as two house elves started massaging her back, " clothes,if you would ooh! food, maybe some water and ahhhhh, that feels nice". Draco knew he had lost her so he stood up and turned to face all the ecstatically happy house elves dressed in gleaming white togas.
" Food. Water. Clothing." He commanded. The house elves practically sprinted across the kitchen clicking their finger like mad. Flashes and poofs appeared and so did racks of clothes. Draco surveyed the fine linen shirts that were in style and the thick, brown pants that were so very fashionable. In the end, he chose a simple shirt with as little frills as possible and sturdy boots with the least scratchy pants. With displeasure, he poked Granger in the head.
"Ouch! What was that for, you ferret!" she demanded to know.
"Oooh. So baddass Granger, you calling someone a ferret. Pick out your clothes and get dressed and don't ever shove me into a wall again."
Hermione scowled and sauntered towards the many dresses hovering in mid air.
"Wow…these are amazing…" she breathed as she ran her fingers over the delicately woven threads of an amazing dark red dress. Its fine colours were shimmering in the light, each seam looked delicately stitc-
"HURRY UP AND BLOODY WELL CHOOSE A DRESS!"
She turned to glare at the annoying, selfish and dreadfully impatient ferret when something caught her eye. Just behind him was a pale blue dress. Its poofy skirt was covered with white lace and the sleeves were puffed and slashed so some creamy white was seen. The bodice was drawn together by mini ribbons and it was utterly perfect. All insults forgotten as Hermione slowly walked towards the dress before being pushed by Malfoy towards it.
"Impatient little snitch." She muttered as she reached for the dress and enclosed it in her loving arms.
" Are Master and Miss ready for Boomer to dress Master and Miss?" a young spirit-filled house elf enquired. Draco nodded curtly in his direction and Boomer snapped both his hand and instantly, they lost their school uniforms and donned their chosen outfits. Hermione was in her dress, Malfoy in his breeches and loose shirt. Draco instantly put his hands on his thighs and started to scratch away while Hermione was coughing and spluttering, while relearning how to breathe with a suffocating corset. The house elves crowded around them, puzzled by their strange ways of thanks.
"Malfoy! I- think- we- should-be leaving- now" Hermione gasped as she held her ribs and stomach.
" Granger, pass me that spoon with the long handle? And then we'll go…"